Not On Her List

IX 💝

"Dad," I say again.

I'm, honestly, not able to believe he's standing here right now. It feels so long...

When he left I wasn't home. Neither was Jeremy. We both knew mom and dad were having problems but we never thought he could just...walk out on us.

"Hillary," he says calmly, a smile forming on his lips.

He's clad in his infamous attire. A black jacket, polo shirt inside, baggy jeans and sneakers. Even when he had been living with us, even to work, that was what he always wore. He never changed style. Never wore a suit or carried a briefcase. Said it made him feel...old.

Suddenly, he crosses the treshold, steps into the house and gives me a hug.

I guess I'm still in shock because I don't react. I mean, I neither pull away from him nor hug him back. I'm just standing there, bewildered as hell.

Then I snap out of it.

I pull him away from me immediately. He looks surprised but then regains his cool composure once more.

"What do you want, dad?" I ask coldly.

"How are you, Hillary. How is Jeremy? And Damian?" He asks. "And your mother?"

I roll my eyes. "Look who suddenly decided to care. What do you want?"

"Is your mom home?" He asks.

"No," I reply sharply, "now leave. Before Jeremy comes out and meets you here."

"Where did she go? I need to speak with her," he says, ignoring the fact that I had asked him to leave.

"Oh, I don't know. Probably out with Damian to cheer him up at his dodge ball match today. Something you should have been doing. Oh I forgot. You moved out," I say starting to feel irritable.

"Look, Hillary, I'm sorry, okay. Things weren't working out with your mom and I. Back then. You don't have to be so spiteful," he says.

"Oh-ho-ho," I say sarcastically, "back then, huh? How about right now? And I have every right to be spiteful!"

"Hillary..."

"Leave, dad. Now!" I say, my voice at it loudest (which isn't pretty loud). "No one wants you here. Even so that we barely noticed your absence."

He looks at me with a pitiful expression. I frown and look away from him.

"Go. Away," I deadpan. "I don't want Jeremy coming out here and seeing you. You have no idea what you did to him when you left."

He sighs and stretches out his hand. Only then do I realize the bouquet he had with him.

I raise an eyebrow.

"It's for your mom. Tell her I came by," he says.

"She doesn't need it, trust me," I say bearing no intention of collecting the bouquet from him.

He takes my hand, places the bouquet in it, then turns around and leaves.

I heave a sigh of relief that Jeremy hadn't come out only to meet dad here. It would break him.

I have this urge to dump the bouquet into the trashcan. I'm already heading towards the trashcan.

"Who's that for?"

I turn around sharply.

Jeremy.

My eyes start to widen.

Did he see dad? Did he hear our conversation?

"Uhh, who's what for?" I ask anxiously.

"The bouquet?" He says, stating the obvious.